


When the Lights Go Down in the City

by celestial_seraphim



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, M/M, Stanford has the magic hands, also this is like a modern au obviously due to the technology mentioned, fiddauthor - Freeform, thought I should post my drabbles on here too, yeah stanford as a masseur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-20 13:19:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8250482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestial_seraphim/pseuds/celestial_seraphim
Summary: Fiddleford soon finds himself getting a massage from a massage therapist named Stanford Pines. Working a desk job, he found his back bothering him. And from there, a romance blossoms.(Yeah the title is totally cheesy, but it's what first came to mind.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yo! This was a very random idea that I started writing on and has become one of my multiple part drabbles.

It had started out as a tiny pain in his lower back. Fiddleford was finally beginning to feel it over the past few weeks. All day, he was hunched over a computer, so this new development came as not much of a surprise to him. He knew problems like this would only get worse if nothing was done about it. He began by asking his coworkers whether they think he should consult a chiropracter or if maybe a massage was the solution. The woman in the office next door to his recommended a massage therapist at the nearby salon. Everyone in town in need of a massage went to him. He was rumored to be amazing at it.  
   “You might think him strange at first, but I highly recommend him. You’ll feel a difference right away. Try to make an appointment as soon as you can. He is rather popular.” This is what she had told him.  
She had also went so far as to offer her appointment to Fiddleford. Of course, he declined at first, saying he could make his own appointment. There was no need for him to take hers. However, she insisted, saying she wanted to save some money anyway, and it might be a few weeks until he could get in.  
   “Well, if you insist,” he sighed.  
The appointment was for tonight after work at seven o’clock sharp.  
   “I’ll sure not to be late,” he assured her.

It was exactly two minutes to seven, and Fiddleford found himself practically speeding over to the salon. Sure, it was only two streets over from his work, but still, Fiddleford hated to be late, especially when this appointment was graciously given to him by a coworker whom was very nice.

He stormed into the salon with less than a minute to spare and was met by terrified glances from hair stylists with their last clients.  
   “Uh, sorry ladies,” he muttered, making his way over to the front desk.  
The woman at the desk glanced up at him with a curious look before suddenly calling over to someone in the back room, “Hey, Stanford, your seven o’clock is here!”  
A smooth, rich voice replied, “Be there in a second!”  
   “You can just take a seat on the bench by the back hallway, sweet heart.” She gestured over there.  
Fiddleford nodded, already nervous. He had a bad habit of sweating whenever he was nervous, wiping his brow in the process.  
   “The masseur was a man? Wait, I think she mentioned that.” His thoughts were turning more and more frantic. It’s not like he was against getting a massage from another man, but…  
His thoughts trailed off as the masseur walked out to meet him.  
   “Ah, you’re not who I was expecting. Let me guess, she gave her appointment to someone. I’m Stanford.” He gave a warm smile as he offered a hand out for Fiddleford.  
God, this was bad. He was handsome. He had everything that made Fiddleford’s knees weak: strong jaw, some stubble, those sideburns, wavy brown hair and eyes almost the exact same color. And good golly, he was bigger than him and wearing flannel.  
   “Uh, I-I’m Fiddleford. Nice to meet cha,” he stammered, awkwardly standing up and shaking the man’s hand.  
He prayed his hand wasn’t sweaty at all. “O-oh, what’s that?” he asked as he felt something different about the hand shake.  
Stanford blushed a bit but soon smiled and held his hand out for him to see.  
   “It’s what some would call my specialty in a way. I have an extra appendage on each hand, you see.” He indicated the extra finger, wiggling them around. “Some say it’s why I’m the best masseur in town.”

A smile spread across Fiddleford’s face as he gazed at his hands with wonder.  
   “Wow, that’s amazin! I’ve never seen anything like it before.”  
Now, it was Stanford’s turn to blush. “Oh, th-thanks. You’re one of the first to react like that. Most of the time, it freaks people out. That’s why I have to show them before I start putting my hands on them,” he winked with a sly smile. “Or they might flip out in the middle of the massage.”  
   “Understandable, I suppose,” Fiddleford nodded, though if anything, the extra fingers probably made for an even better massage. Now he could see why so many people recommended him.

Stanford motioned for Fiddleford to follow him towards the back room where the table and everything was all set up.  
   “So, Fiddleford, tell me a bit about yourself. Where do you work, what do you do for a living? Married at all?” he asked as he was getting things situated.  
   “Oh, I work at the local computer tech place a few streets over. I fix up computers and well, basically know all about them. I’m divorced actually. Have been for a little while now. What can I say, things just didn’t work out I suppose, but it was good. I’ve been doing well,” Fiddleford replied and sat on the massage table.  
   “Ah, sorry to hear about that. Didn’t mean to prod where I shouldn’t have, but glad to hear you’re doing well. And computers, hm? Sounds like an interesting profession. I pursued something similar at first when I went to college because of my family mostly, but I don’t know. Things changed and wound up going into massage therapy. You could imagine my father’s reaction,” he chuckled. “By the way, any sort of muscle pain you’re having? Areas I should focus on? Sorry, I know we just met and I’m already unloading personal stuff on you.”  
   “Oh, no, I don’t mind. It’s rather nice to talk to someone even if we just met. You..seem like an easy and understanding person to talk to. And my lower back has been bothering me. You see, I mostly sit at a computer all day all hunched over. Probably isn’t the best for my back, so that would be the area to focus on.”

Stanford nodded as he finally picked an oil he wanted to use. He set it to the side as he began lighting a few candles.  
   “Do you mind if I light some incense? Some don’t care for it, but I find it helps relax both of us,” he asked getting a stick of it ready.  
   “Hm, never tried it actually, but if you insist, I’m up for it.”  
   “Oh? I like you as a client already,” he winked and lit it up.  
Soon, a sweet fragrance of the incense filled the room. Indeed, Fiddleford did find the scent to relax him.  
   “Now, I’m going to leave the room for a few minutes to give you some privacy. Undress and lie face down on the table with the top sheet over you. I’ll knock on the door before I come in, so don’t worry.”  
Stanford smiled and quietly shut the door. Fiddleford took a deep breath now that he was alone for a bit.  
   “Get a hold of yourself, Fiddleford. He’s handsome and..a bit flirtatious himself, but just..be cool for once in your life.”  
Quickly, not knowing how much time he just wasted monologuing, he stripped so he was completely exposed. He squeaked a bit in surprise as he laid on the table on his stomach. The sheets were surprisingly warm, even more so as he draped the top one over himself as Stanford had instructed. He was glad he got there when he did, for soon after, a few light knocks were followed by Stanford opening the door.  
   “Ah, good, you’re ready,” he chuckled. “Now, I just want you to relax, and I’ll do all the work, okay? I’ll focus on your lower back, but let me know if there are any other areas. Now, let’s get started.”  
Tapping on the screen of his iPod, he started a playlist of relaxing, zen like music to set the mood.  
Fiddleford took a deep breath as he tried his best to relax, though his heart kept pounding at the thought of Stanford’s hands about to be on him.  
   “Calm down, it’s just a massage,” he told himself.

He had to physically stop himself from making any sort of noise or squeak when he felt his larger hands slicked up with massage oil begin to slide down his back once the sheet was pulled off until it reached his butt. However, he soon found himself relaxing as those fingers began to work into his sore, tight muscles with gentle force and methodical motions.  
   “Oh yeah, those muscles are quite tight. Don’t worry, I’ll have them loosened up in no time. Feel good so far?” he asked in a gentle tone as his fingers moved around the curve of his hips then back to his lower back.  
   “Yeah, that..that feels real good,” he muttered, finding himself in deep relaxation just from his touch.  
Stanford smiled and said nothing else, letting Fiddleford enjoy his massage. It took some work and pressure from his fingers, but he soon had all the knots and tight muscles in his back all loose. He then moved on to other parts of his body: arms, legs, and a bit on his butt, keeping the sheets over it of course.  
   “Alright I’m gonna need you to turn over.” He patted his chest and lifted the sheet enough so Fiddleford could flip over onto his back.  
It took him a moment to realize Stanford was talking to him and finally registered with an “oh,” and flipped over for him.  
He hoped his face wasn’t too red as Stanford’s hands gently glided over his chest, neck, and face, and he could’ve sworn the other man winked at him sometime during all this. Eventually, the hour was up, and Stanford patted his chest once again.  
   “Alright, you’re all set. How do you feel? Nice and relaxed I hope,” he asked in a gentle tone.  
   “Uh, yeah, super relaxed. That was amazin’,” Fiddleford stretched a bit and giggled as he looked up at him.  
Stanford couldn’t help but slightly bite his lip at that giggle. Shit, why was he so adorable??  
   “Um, well, I’m gonna give you some privacy again to get your clothes back on. Just go out into the hallway when you’re ready,” he chuckled nervously as he shuffled out the door, closing it behind him.  
Fiddleford was soon fully clothed again, though a bit slick from the oil. He smiled at Stanford as the other man offered him a water bottle.  
   “Make sure you drink plenty of water after a massage. I gave your back a real work through to get those muscles all loosened up.”  
He motioned for Fiddleford to follow him, picking up a tablet from the front desk. Fiddleford paid by card, adding a handsome tip before signing it with his finger.      “Wow, technology these days, huh? Amazing,” he grinned.  
Stanford smiled awkwardly as he suddenly handed Fiddleford a piece of paper that was folded in half.  
   “I know we just met..but on that paper is my phone number. Feel free to text me..you know, you could use that to schedule your next appointment with me or whatever. If you want to casually talk to me, that’s okay too. Well, you were my last appointment, and I think my brother has dinner ready, so I better head home. It was lovely meeting you, Fiddleford. I hope you could possibly be a regular client,” he winked and walked Fiddleford to the door.  
The two waved to each other before going their separate ways. As Fiddleford walked to his car, he couldn’t help but clutch at this chest in an attempt to calm his beating heart with the piece of paper safely in his pocket.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn't see the tag, it is set in these modern times of ours since they use snap chat.

Fiddleford found it even harder to focus today than yesterday even though his back felt much better. He had a tendency to slouch, and he already knew he was doing it as he sat hunched over a computer as usual. Since he was the techie of the office, his desk and work space was set apart from everyone else. It had taken a while, but he finally had his own office. The wrap around windows gave him an excellent view of downtown. Thankfully, he had gotten most of the work he needed to get done done. He had put the massage and Stanford in the back of his mind for now, focusing on his work or at least the minimum he had to do.

Soon, he called it and took his break. Almost immediately, he went to his personal smart phone and blankly stared at Stanford’s name and number in his contacts. The man was rather smooth, or at least good at acting like it, he had to admit.  
   “Alright, Fiddleford, you’re going to text him. Just say ‘hey’ or something cool and casual like that. Of course, he might be working right now, so I’m not expecting an immediate reply. Just send him a message then go enjoy lunch,” he told himself in his head.  
With his heart feeling like it was a wild bird about to fly out of his chest, he typed out a simple “Hey, Stanford. This is Fiddleford, you know, from the massage yesterday. I’m on break now so thought I’d send you a message.”

There, it was done. Fiddleford breathed a sigh of relief and promptly put the phone in his pocket along with his wallet as he headed out to get something to eat. He’d been stuck in the office all morning. Stretching his legs and going outside would be a good change of pace. He knew a nice italian place he could go to for a nice lunch. It had outdoor seating too, which was perfect with this beautiful day.

He managed to get a seat on their patio outside and enjoyed a cool lemonade as he breathed in the fresh air. It made him loosen his tie a bit to let some air in there as he just enjoyed the atmosphere. He set his phone and wallet down on the table and felt his breath hitch when he noticed the light on his phone blinking, indicating a new message. He wasn’t expecting such a fast response and nearly fainted just thinking about it. Finally, with a shaky thumb, he unlocked his phone and looked at the first message.  
   “Hey, Fiddleford! Glad you messaged me. How’s work and how does your back feel? A bit better I hope. I actually just got out of work. I took a half day today. Been working a lot, so I really need it, you know.”  
Good, he was asking questions. Fiddleford gulped and hoped this would become easier over time. He was always so awkward when he first met people, but with Stanford, the words seemed to come easily, oddly enough.  
   “Oh, I’ve been getting a lot of work done today. I’m just taking my break and enjoying some really good Italian food at one of my favorite restaurants by the office. And my back is feeling a lot better, though I’ll have to work on my posture. I find that I just automatically slouch whenever I’m in front of the computer. And the half day sounds nice. I would do that but I think I’m gonna just finish up what I was working on and probably get out around three or four maybe.”

It was by this time that the waiter came back to take his order. As always, Fiddleford ordered the seafood pasta. It had a nice variety with mussels, clams, and calamari along with pasta in a tasty sauce. His mouth began watering just thinking about the first bite. He always found that to be the best part of eating something delicious. For some reason, he found himself actually excited to hear back from Stanford, maybe he was getting rather invested in this. Sure enough, a few minutes later his phone dinged, indicating a new message.

   “You said an Italian place? I think I know where your office is, and I’m like 99.5% sure that the place you’re at is right by my apartment. Um, this is going to sound like a weird question, but do you happen to have a snapchat? I know, it’s more of the younger generations using it, but it’s pretty fun actually. My brother showed it to me. If you don’t, the app is free, and you can add me: stanfordP.”

Sure, Fiddleford had heard of the app. It was basically like messaging someone but with pictures. He never really found a use for it, but he begrudgingly downloaded it at Stanford’s request. He kept it simple and made his username fiddleford. Of course, it was available. He was pretty sure he was the only one by the name of Fiddleford in the whole world. After adding Stanford, he sent him a picture of the patio he was sitting in that also included the restaurant’s name. About five seconds later, he received a snap back from Stanford. By the feel of the heat from his face, he knew he was blushing immensely. The man didn’t have a shirt on and looked like he just got out of the shower with the caption: “Yeah, that is right by my place. Mind if I join you?”  
Fiddleford certainly wasn’t expecting anyone to join him, but he figured eating and enjoying a meal with someone would be nice for a change. He wasn’t really one to take a lot of pictures of himself, so he awkwardly held the phone in front of him and sent a picture of him smiling with “Sure, I’d love some company.”

Sure enough, he spotted Stanford basically barrelling down the sidewalk and had to catch his breath once he took the chair across from Fiddleford. The man looked like he had just run a marathon and then some.  
   “You know, you didn’t have to book it over here,” Fiddleford couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched him.  
The waiter graciously poured Stanford a glass of water, which he gulped down in about thirty seconds.  
   “I wanted to get here before your food got here if you’ve already ordered that is,” he huffed as he finally began to catch his breath.  
   “I did order it already actually, but..it is a rather large dish. I can never finish it on my own and usually end up boxing it for later. You can share it with me if you want. That way, we won’t have to wait for your own food when mine gets here,” he suggested and offered him some of the free bread.  
   “Well, that sounds like a marvelous idea, thanks.”

A separate plate was brought for Stanford so he could scoop some of the seafood and pasta onto that plate. Nothing was said between them as they both ate and enjoyed the food. As always, the sauce and everything was to die for. With Stanford’s help, they managed to clear everything off the plate.  
   “You have excellent taste,” Stanford complemented once the food settled nicely in his stomach.  
   “Thanks, it’s one of my favorite dishes here. I would’ve invited you earlier if I knew you lived nearby.” Fiddleford blushed a bit as he wiped his mouth with the napkin politely.

Stanford twiddled his thumbs as he thought about what he wanted to say next. He knew what it was. It was just a matter of spitting it out then waiting for Fiddleford’s response.  
   “Um, you said you’d be out around three or four, right? Would you maybe wanna go out..with me tonight? You could just park by my apartment around six, and we could go from there. I’m sure we could think of something fun to do.”  
Now, he sat there and waited for the other’s response. Fiddleford was a bit surprised at first. It had been quite a while since anyone had asked him out.  
   “Oh, sure. I’m not really doing anything tonight, and going out somewhere would be fun,” he grinned.

Fiddleford took care of the bill, barring any attempts from Stanford to pay it. He was given the apartment’s address and told to just park in any open spot. As he walked back to the office, he couldn’t help but feel a light, fluttering feeling in his chest. He couldn’t wait for what lay in store for tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning just in case, I mean, it's super brief, but there is a bit of marijuana use by Fidds.  
> Enjoy!

Fiddleford found himself sitting in his car outside of Stanford’s apartment for about ten minutes before he finally turned it off and practically pushed himself out of the car. When he had gotten back to the office, he found himself to be the talk amongst his co workers. Most already knew about his being gay and immediately tried to question him. He only hinted at it maybe turning into something romantic but didn’t want to contribute much. After that, he was mostly left alone in peace. Once home, he put on a simple salmon colored long sleeved tee, rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. Knowing how bad his nerves could get, he took his bowl and stash and smoked up before rinsing his mouth with a large amount of mouthwash and finishing everything off with cologne.  
_You can do this, Fiddleford. You’re just hanging out with him at his apartment. No big deal._

Finally, he was at the door to his apartment and knocked a few times. It was apartment number three. The door had a big silver three on it, so there could be no mistake that this was his apartment.  
   “Hey, Fiddleford!” Stanford quickly opened the door once he could see it was Fiddleford and instantly beckoned him inside with a hand lightly pressing on Fiddleford’s lower back.  
He tried his best not to let a surprised squeak escape him at the sudden touch.  
   “Oh, hi, Stanford. Long time no see,” he chuckled nervously and followed him to the living area with couches and a tv.  
He was surprised to see someone else who looked a lot like Stanford grabbing some keys off the counter. He was wearing a coat and looked like he was just heading out the door.  
   “See ya later, sixer. I have a match to go to. Wish me luck!” His voice was a bit gruff and he eyed Fiddleford up and down with curiosity.  
   “Oh, okay, Lee. But, first I want to introduce you to a new friend of mine, Fiddleford. And Fiddleford, this is my twin brother, Stanley. I call him Lee for short. He’s a boxer and has a match he’s going to.”  
Fiddleford gasped a small “oh” and held out his hand to Stanley.  
   “Pl-pleasure to meet you,” he said timidly.  
Stanley wore a smirk and gripped onto Fiddleford’s hand as he generously shook it.  
   “So, you’re the guy Stanford keeps talking about. You kids have fun. I’ll be back around ten or eleven.”  
   “Try not to come back with too bad of injuries,” Stanford called after him before the door fully closed.  
Stanford turned back to Fiddleford with a little smile on his face.  
   “Alright, well, let’s see..bathroom’s over there in the hallway first door on the left. The rest are the bedrooms. And right now, we’re by the kitchen and you can see the living room. It’s a small apartment, but it’s cozy. I like it. Stanley and I live together. I’m a massage therapist, and he’s a boxer, obviously. So, we can either go out somewhere or we could do something here, though we’re a bit limited due to space. We could watch a movie maybe,” he suggested and started to dig through the cabinets. “I know there’s popcorn here somewhere.”  
   “Uh, a movie would be nice. It feels like a stay in kind of night, but if you’re up for going out sometime this weekend, there’s a really fun club I sometimes go to. And, um, where should I sit? In the living room?”  
   “Oh, yeah, living room works. I just have to find the popcorn. There’s a cabinet by the TV that has a bunch of DVD’s. Why don’t you pick out a movie. I like most all of them, so it doesn’t matter to me,” Stanford suggested as he dug through the pantry.  
Fiddleford nodded and went into the living room and soon found the cabinet Stanford was referring to. There were a lot of sci fi and fantasy ones with a few sports and action ones mixed in, which he guessed were his brother’s. After a bit of looking around, he finally decided on “Interstellar.” He had been wanting to see it when it was in theatres but never got around to it. He found that things like space and space travel had always held an interest to him.

From the sounds of popcorn popping in the microwave, he guessed that Stanford found the popcorn. The other man noticed that Fiddleford had taken a seat on the couch.  
   “Did you pick one out?” he asked as he impatiently waited for the timer to reach zero.  
   “Oh, yeah! I picked ‘Interstellar.’ I’m guessing you’ve seen it since, well, you have the DVD,” Fiddleford answered, jumping a bit at the sudden voice.  
   “Ah, yes, I love that one. It’s really good. You’ll love it.” Stanford gave a nod of approval and smiled once the popcorn was done.  
He poured it into a huge bowl and added some salt and butter for taste. Soon, he was in the living room and placed the bowl of popcorn onto Fiddleford’s lap and went over to put the DVD into the Playstation.  
He soon returned to sit next to him on the couch with a controller in his hands. He navigated the screen and selected the disc to start it up.  
   “What Playstation is that?” Fiddleford asked curiously.  
It looked newer than the one he had.  
   “It’s the 4. Stanley bought it for our apartment not too long ago with some extra money he had saved up. It’s still fairly new, so we don’t have a lot of games for it yet. But we have a few good ones. You’ll have to play with us sometime. It’s a good way to let off steam.”  
   “W-well, I’d love to.”  
Fiddleford grew quiet once the movie began to play. He placed the bowl of popcorn between them so they could both reach it. It also served as a nice barrier for personal space. It’s not that Fiddleford didn’t want any “touching,” but he didn’t want to make things awkward. He would leave it up to Stanford to make a move if he wanted to. Touching shouldn’t be that weird, should it? Just a few days ago, Stanford had given him a full body massage. He was familiar with his body. But those touches had been professional. Anything done here would be quite personal. If this was to turn into something more, it would be Fiddleford’s first somewhat serious relationship after his divorce.  
_You can do this, Fiddleford. It’s just watching a movie with a new friend._

Both of them stayed rather quiet through the beginning of the movie. Stanford had mentioned that this was about his one hundredth time watching it, but he seemed entirely invested in it as soon as it started. The beginning wasn’t too overly slow, but it did take its time. Fiddleford was beginning to wonder if they’d ever get to the parts where they were actually in space. The music, though, left him in total awe. It kept him on the edge of his seat and especially when they were off planet and in a different galaxy, he found himself just as invested as Stanford. He had barely noticed when Stanford had snuck an arm around his waist and pulled him a bit closer. By the end, he found a few tears in his eyes and was wiping them off with his arm when the credits started to roll.  
   “W-wow..that was an amazing movie,” he said, still in awe.  
Stanford nodded with an “mmhmm” and exited to the Playstation’s home screen.  
   “You picked an excellent film.”  
Now that Fiddleford was moving around a bit, stretching from sitting for so long, he noticed the arm around him and nearly his entire face turned red.  
   “Oh, uh, when did that arm get there?” he chuckled nervously and gulped as he shifted a bit closer.  
It seemed that the entire dynamic of the room had shifted. He wanted to draw closer to Stanford even though his body was a nervous wreck and being quite useless right now.  
   “Well, we still have plenty of popcorn left. Looks like we hardly ate any of it. How about some Netflix?” he suggested, wearing a little smirk as he turned his face toward him.  
Fiddleford audibly gulped at the mention of it but nodded.  
   “That sounds nice. I like that Cutthroat Kitchen show.”  
   “Then we’ll watch that.”  
As he started it up, Fiddleford took a deep breath to relax himself and sank back into the couch. He scooched over where Stanford’s arm had been leading him and cuddled into his side a bit, lightly placing his left hand over the other man’s torso. After a few minutes of feeling awkward as hell, he soon found that being close to him like this was actually kind of nice once they were both comfortable with it. And Stanford was warm. Fiddleford found himself smirking as he noticed a pink blush spreading across Stanford’s own cheeks, though he tried his best to act calm and collected.  
They spent the rest of the evening watching Netflix and soon, both had nodded off in the middle of an episode. It was Stanley who arrived back from his match and found them asleep on the couch.  
   “Hey, nerds, wakey wakey,” he called from the counter with a chuckle.  
Both of them woke with a start and looked at each other before looking at Stanley.  
   “Oh, uh, sorry, we must have both fallen asleep,” Stanford chuckled and unlatched himself from Fiddleford. “Hey, you said you don’t have to work tomorrow, right? You can stay the night here if you want. You can either sleep on the couch or I offer you my bed, like a proper host, and I’ll take the couch. Or you can go home. It’s up to you.”  
Fiddleford considered it for a second. It wasn’t like he had anything important to do tomorrow really, so he nodded in agreement.  
   “Sure, I’d love to stay the night.”  
   “Excellent!” Stanford chirped in glee. “This’ll be fun. When Lee comes home, we usually play video games, so you can watch us or join in if you want.”  
   “Good luck keeping up though if you do,” Stanley added with a confident grin and took the lounger by the couch.  
Stanford had to use both hands for the controller but still sat rather close to Fiddleford. The other politely declined to join, saying he was content with watching. He found there was a little smile on his face as he shyly leaned against him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some sexy making out. Doesn't go further than that..yet. Enjoy!

Fiddleford woke up on the couch with something around him. It was hard to tell what it was as he peeked his eyes open. By the look of the sun and sky from the window, it was somewhere in the late morning. As he gave his body time to wake up, soon, his eyes opened more, and he could properly survey his surroundings, though they went wide when he saw it was Stanford’s arm that was holding onto him.  
_Oh, golly, we’re spooning._  
He could practically feel his breath on the back of his neck as he exhaled slowly as he continued to sleep. However, Fiddleford’s movements soon woke him. He peeked at the blonde with an equally embarrassed blush when he saw the position they were in.  
   “Oh, uh, sorry. You had fallen asleep while we were playing video games. You looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to move you and risk waking you, so I kept you on the couch, and..I guess I must’ve fallen asleep there as well. Lee must have left us here and gone to bed soon after,” Stanford explained, soon letting go of Fiddleford.  
Fiddleford could practically feel it as he sat up and faced Stanford. They both wore the same rosy tint to their cheeks as one stared at the other. If he could describe it, from the first few days they’ve known each other, it’s been like a rope that connected them. And right now, that rope was growing rather taut now that they were this close. He could hear Stanford’s breathing. It was bated yet tried to come off as normal. It had been a growing desire Fiddleford had kept hidden, not wanting to do something that would ruin the little friendship they had going, yet here they were, quite close to one another. They stayed like this, like they were just hanging or frozen in time, one looking at the other, eyes flicking downwards at the other’s lips before awkwardly flitting back up, hoping the other didn’t notice. The catalyst was when Fiddleford’s hand, which had been on Stanford’s shoulder, had slowly moved up and his fingers went into his soft, brown hair. That was when Stanford’s eyes stayed stuck on his lips for good, and he began to lean in. It was a slow momentum forward at first before the inevitable crash of their lips together. It was an odd first kiss between the two. Usually, the first few kisses were, slow, gentle, curious. The lovers were simply exploring this area; however, for them it was the opposite. The kiss started desperate, the taut rope between the two finally snapping. They kissed hard, one pressing against the other, needing to feel their mouth on their’s. And boy, were Stanford’s lips soft and kissable. Fiddleford’s hand in his hair soon started grabbing in an attempt to bring him closer. Once out of that stage, the kisses began to calm and turned sensual. They slowed down and began to thoroughly indulge in each other. Stanford pulled Fiddleford onto his lap, hands resting on his lower back above his waist.  
He could feel that they were both holding back. One didn’t want to overstep boundaries on the other. Stanford was a careful kisser, letting Fiddleford take the lead. It was a rare trait in lovers now a days, and Fiddleford enjoyed it to the fullest. Leading the way, he was the first to use his tongue, gliding it along Stanford’s bottom lip in one smooth motion. Stanford eagerly followed suit, though the line drawn with his tongue was a bit sloppier, not as neat as Fiddleford’s practiced tongue. There was an inexperience about Stanford that had Fiddleford curious, and he slowly pulled away, though not too far. Their lips still lingered only inches apart as he opened his eyes to look at the other’s soft brown ones.  
   “Wh-what? Did I do something wrong?” Stanford stammered with a worried look.  
Fiddleford gave him an amused look, lips turning into a sly little smile. “There’s not much you can do wrong when it comes to kissing, Stanford. Well, I guess there are a few odd things but that all has to do with taste and kinks and such. No, you didn’t do anything wrong, but you kiss so tentatively. I wanted to ask..have you done something like this before?”  
Stanford’s entire face grew even redder as he shyly nodded his head.  
   “I’ve kissed a few others before but not like that..not how we were just kissing. So deep and intimate. Yeah, I’m pretty inexperienced with this kind of stuff. Guess I just never met the right person, until now of course. What about you? The way you kiss..seems like you know what you’re doing.”  
   “Well, let’s just say after I got divorced, I sort of went on a..spree. I identify as bisexual, but I had never gotten a chance to try it with other guys, so that’s basically what I did once all that was taken care of, but the feelings are different. It’s like I feel a rope between us, and it’s always pulling me ever closer to you. I can definitely say I have some strong feelings for you, even though we’ve only known each other for a short time,” Fiddleford said and rested his forehead against Stanford’s.  
Stanford only nodded with a giddy little smile. “When I wasn’t having much luck with the ladies, it was Lee who suggested maybe I should try dudes. Guess he was right after all. He has a boyfriend, but he travels around a lot. He shows up about twice a month or so. He’s uh..an interesting guy. His name is Rick.”  
   “Sounds like an interesting guy,” Fiddleford chuckled and kissed down Stanford’s nose.  
   “It’s still quite new, and we haven’t known each other for that long, but would you be interested in being my boyfriend?” Stanford asked shyly, twiddling his thumbs. “You don’t have to give me an answer now. I understand if it’s too soon.”  
Fiddleford looked down at him for, to Stanford, seemed like eternity before sweetly pressing their lips together and wrapping his arms around him.  
   “I’d love to,” he whispered by his ear.  
It was the first time in a long time that anyone had asked him something like that. He felt as giddy as when he was engaged even with something not as formal as that.

   “Ugh, gross, were you two just making out?” Stanley interjected as he walked past them into the kitchen.  
His sudden appearance made both of them blush a deep scarlet as they stared him down, though Fiddleford was still perched in Stanford’s lap.  
   “Oh, uh, yeah, sorry, Lee,” Stanford chuckled, a hand stroking up and down Fiddleford’s back.  
   “Ha! You two look like a couple of spooked owls. I don’t really care that you were making out,” he teased and poured himself a glass of milk. “But I’m gonna be heading out soon. I’m gonna pick up Rick from the airport. He was in Costa Rica and said he brought me some cool stuff, like,” he whispered the next part. “Illegal stuff...but I won’t be gone long. We might stop to get some fast food but then I’ll be back. I’m guessing neither of you have work to go to today seeing as it is Saturday.”  
   “Nope, so we’ll see you and Rick when you get back, just drive carefully. I know how you two are,” Stanford said in a parental kind of tone.  
   “Yeah, yeah, mom, I’ll be careful,” Stanley said, rolling his eyes as he slipped a hoodie and red beanie on.  
He was about to say goodbye when his phone went off, and the last thing they heard was a “Yeah, yeah, I’m on my way, dearest. Hold your damn horses.”

   “Huh, guess I’ll get to meet Rick sooner than I thought,” Fiddleford chuckled and slowly got off of Stanford’s lap. “Better make myself more presentable.”  
   “Oh, don’t worry about looking presentable. Rick won’t care. He’s an..interesting person. Takes some getting used to. He’s like my brother in a way. He’s rough around the edges but has a warm center I suppose. If he’s a dick to you, just call him an asshole or something. He’ll back off.”  
Stanford led him to the bathroom where they both got ready for the day. Fiddleford couldn’t help but smile at the warm, fuzzy feeling building up inside of him as he felt Stanford’s arms around him.


End file.
